


This Little Light of Mine

by abbyli



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Baby Fic, Background Arya/Gendry, Dad!Robb, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Jon is not related to the Starks, Kid!Fic, Lady is the only Stark dog (at first), More Angst at First, Pregnancy, Yara/Margaery, so many feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-25
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-04-27 19:52:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 15,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14432895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/abbyli/pseuds/abbyli
Summary: When Sansa discovers she's pregnant after Harry suddenly leaves her and disappears, she knows she needs some help.She just wasn't expecting it to be Jon Snow that gives her everything she needs and even more.





	1. The Funeral

**Author's Note:**

> a/n: So as you can see, I have started over. I had boxed these characters into a corner and I couldn’t shake them loose and point them in the direction I wanted them to go. So, you are going to see some significant changes and tweaks, but our story and our characters are remaining the same. I hope you beautiful patient people will enjoy this new look. Read on.

.

.

She waits for Harry to show up.

The early April weather seems to know the mood of the day. A light icy sprinkle falls from the sky, soaking the ground around them. The pastor’s words are lost to the wind as he stands in front of her parents’ caskets, delivering the first handful of dirt as they are lowered into the ground.

Bran clings to Robb’s hand with both of his, hiding his tiny face in his sleeve. Robb gently detangles his hand from Bran’s and wraps his arm around the small boy’s shoulders, pulling him closer. Rickon is cradled in Arya’s embrace, head resting against her shoulder as he naps, oblivious to the pain around him. And maybe that was for the best.

Sansa looks towards the gates of the cemetery again, waiting to see that blue SUV pull up.

There’s a gentle touch on her hand and looking around, she sees Jon watching her worriedly. Sansa lets out a small sound, pushing her fingers through her hair that is already falling out of its ponytail. Raindrops cover the lenses of Jon’s glasses and she finds herself wondering how he can even see out of those things.

Where is Harry, she questions again. She sees Jeyne standing on the other side of Robb and Bran, her tiny frame taut with tension. Ygritte’s there too but to Sansa’s surprise, she’s not with Jon.

The ring on her left hand is heavy and slick, sliding up over her knuckle every time she slides her fingers together.

“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust...”

Her parents would have hated this.

Fortunately, the services come to an end after that. The mourners begin to fill out and Sansa looks one last time for Harry’s blue SUV.

Brienne Tarth is suddenly standing there, looking as chic as ever in a fitted black suit. Her short blond hair is brushed back from her face, the blue of her eyes standing out against the dreariness of this horrible day.

“I’m so sorry,” their family lawyer and friend says. “I am so sorry to do this to you now but I need for you to come by my office. I have something really important to share with you.”

Robb looks around at Sansa, who looks around at Arya. Arya grunts, shifting Rickon’s still snoozing form in her arms and is rescued by Jon. “I’ll take the boys home. You three go.”

“Are you sure?” Robb asks.

Jon nods. Rickon stirs then, softly asking to get down. Robb leans over, whispering something in Bran’s ear that gets the six year old to take Jon’s extended hand without question. “We’ll see you soon, love.”

Jon starts talking, blathering on actually to the boys in what was an obvious effort to distract them from the fact that they had just buried their parents. Sansa’s name is called by Arya three times as she watches them go, before she turns to follow her sister and brother.

-;

Brienne’s office is colder than usual.

Robb stands by the window, hands dug deep in his pockets as he stares out the frosted panes. Arya tinkers with the small space heater on the floor, her slight frame trembling and not from the chill in the air of the aged room.

Sansa remains seated, legs and arms crossed so tightly she doesn’t think she will ever be able to unlink them again.

Brienne walks in a moment later, carrying what seems to an enormous file tucked in a manila folder. The older woman apologizes again as Arya and Robb retake their seats, flipping the front of the folder open after letting it fall to the desk. “This is about Brandon and Rickon’s custody arrangement.”

“Custody arrangement?” Robb repeats.

“Wait, are they –“

Brienne shakes her head. “No, no, no.” She extends a long white finger, gesturing to the packet of papers. “Your parents have already appointed a guardian for your brothers in the event of their deaths. And now...now that that has come to pass, it’s time that this is brought to light.”

“Who did they appoint?” Arya asks.

Robb leans back in his chair after his gaze flits over the paper, letting out a small breath. “Me.”

Sansa’s eyebrows shoot to her hair. “ _You?”_

“They also chose your great uncle Brynden Tully, in the event that Robb decided not to take the boys on,” Brienne says. “But, I’ve spoken to your uncle and he said he is willing to take them but would really rather not.”

The three Starks in front of her are silent.

“You have no living grandparents. And your aunt Lysa lives in New York City in a mental institution, obviously not fit to raise children.”

“It was really either me or Blackfish?” Robb’s already reaching for a pen. Brienne nods. “All right.”

“Robb, are you sure?” Sansa asks.

He nods, scribbling his name down on each spot that Brienne had highlighted. “Do you really think I’m going to send those boys to Chicago?”

“Well of course not but –“

“It doesn’t matter. Here you are, Brienne.” He hands her back the file and Brienne signs it herself. “Is it over?”

“It’s over.”

Robb’s out of the room before Sansa can say anything else, the heavy wooden door clattering shut behind him. “Sorry,” she gets to her feet, wiping the invisible dust off of her skirt. “He doesn’t mean to be –“

Brienne shakes her head. “Not at all. _Please.”_ The blonde takes a surprised step back when Sansa throws her arms around her shoulders. “What’s this for?”

“Thank you for everything you have done for us in the last three years.” She’s mumbling like an idiot but Sansa had stopped caring a long time ago.

Brienne gently pats her elbow and pulls away to look ardently at the both of them. “If there is _anything_ either of you need, you won’t hesitate to let me know, all right?”

Arya nods and thanks her softly before steering Sansa from the office. Robb’s waiting for them outside by his car and it is then Sansa notices that the rain has finally let up. A few rays of sunlight are attempting to break through the clouds, bathing them all in their warmth. Arya shrugs off her jacket and bites her lip hard enough to draw blood.

“I’m not coming home with you.”

“Arya –“

Her eighteen year old sister shakes her head. “I’m going to go back to school. My bags are already packed and in the back of the car.” She gestures towards her beat up Jeep sitting parked by Robb’s car. “I can’t – I just –“

“It’s okay, Arya,” Robb grabs her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Don’t be a stranger though, all right? Come home every once in a while.” Robb stumbles back slightly as Arya throws her arms around him. He hugs her back, kissing her temple as she pulls away.

To Sansa’s surprise, Arya hugs her too. “I’ll call tomorrow once I get settled.”

“Drive safe,” is all Sansa can say before watching Arya turn away.

The two of them stand there as Arya pulls her Jeep from the parking lot and when Sansa looks down, she sees Robb reaching for her hand just as she is reaching for his. “She’ll be fine. She’s tough.”

“She sure is.” Robb manages a smile that is obviously fake. “Do you need to head home?”

Sansa shakes her head. “I’ll go with you. I wanna see the boys again.”

-;

When they walk into the house that they had all lived in together for two years until Sansa had met Harry, the first thing that Sansa notices is the tantalizing aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Her stomach rumbles in hunger, so loud that Robb gives her a weird look as they walked into the kitchen.

“Are you playing housewife?”

Jon’s ears flush red before flipping Sansa the bird. “Very funny. Now eat.” He gestures to the food on the counter and walks over to the kitchen table to sit.

Robb grabs a half of a sandwich and looks around. “Where are the boys?”

“Passed out upstairs. Rickon slept the whole way home and Bran was about to fall over when we got back.”

“I’ll go check on them.” Robb disappears and Sansa pours herself a cup of coffee, snatching up a muffin from the plate that Jon had set out.

“Thank you for all of this,” she lifts the muffin in a half-toast and Jon smiles.

“Whatever you need.”

Sansa sinks into a chair across from him, leaning over to rest her elbows on the table. “Bran and Rickon okay?”

Jon shakes his head and Sansa’s heart aches. “I don’t think they’re going to be okay for a awhile.”

Sudden tears gather behind Sansa’s eyes. “How did you – I mean, _how...”_

Jon nods in understanding. He gently takes Sansa’s hand, giving it a light squeeze. “You take it day by day,” he says after a long while. “And it’s not going to be easy. There’s going to be a very long period of time where you wake up in the morning and you can’t even _breathe._ You’re just trying to get air.”

Jon leans back in his chair, eyes flickering towards the ceiling. Sansa sniffles, wiping at the tears that have started to fall down her cheeks. “But then there will be a day where you wake up and you _can_ breathe. And you start to remember the good over the bad. You realize that they _are_ there with you still and you just can’t see them anymore.”

Sansa manages a smile through her tears and Jon passes her a napkin. “Thanks. Not just for the napkin.”

Jon nods again, the corners of his mouth turning up. “Sansa, I meant it. Whatever you need, just let me know.”

Before Sansa can say anything else, Robb reappears. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Sansa swipes the crumpled napkin across her face one last time, tossing it into the trashbin. “Everything’s fine. The boys all right?”

“They’re out cold,” Robb settles into the chair across from Jon with a weary sigh. “It’s been a long hellish day.” He lifts his gaze to Jon. “Jon, you don’t have to stay. I’m sure you want to get home to Ygritte.”

Jon clears his throat uncomfortably. “Um, actually, _uh...”_

Sansa cocks her head to the side. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong!” Jon insists quickly. “Really, nothing’s wrong. It’s just, uh, Ygritte and I split up.”

Robb gapes at their friend for a moment. “You what? Why?”

“When?”

The tips of Jon’s ears flush red again. “About a month ago.”

“Hey, why didn’t you tell us?”

“ _Because,”_ Jon says stubbornly. “Everything happened. It really wasn’t important. She and I are fine, it was mutual and amicable.”

“But a whole month? _Jon.”_

“Don’t _Jon_ me, Sansa. It’s _fine.”_

Sansa eyes him disbelievingly but doesn’t push anymore. Robb kicking her in the shin underneath the table definitely helped her drop the subject too.

“We realized it wasn’t working a long time ago but both of us were too stubborn to give in first. She moved out and is living across town in a big studio.”

“Is she going to go back to Scotland?” Robb asks.

“No, she’s still working at Wildlings and going to school.”

When Sansa had first met Ygritte, she had been a little taken aback by this wild haired woman. Jon had gone to Scotland for a trip through his schooling and returned home with this loud, ferocious wild woman on his arm. And she never left.

Sansa adored the other woman. She was funny, pushy, and one of the most interesting people she had ever met. To be honest though, she never thought that the relationship between her and Jon would last very long.

“...her at the services?”

Pulled from her thoughts, Sansa looks at Jon, who’s looking at Robb expectantly. Her brother is practically squirming in his seat and Sansa wonders what she just missed.

Robb hesitates for a moment. “Well as long as we are sharing, Jeyne just came to pay her respects before going home to North Carolina.”

“What do you mean, ‘before going home’?” Sansa asks. “Robb, what --?”

“The wedding’s called off, okay?”

Sansa opens her mouth to question more but Jon cuts her off. “How long has it been off? What? I wanna know if he’s been hiding it as long as I have,” he adds at the look on Sansa’s face.

Robb smirks, shaking his head. “Just a few days ago.”

 _“_ Damn.”

_“Jon!”_

“Sorry.”

“ _Jeyne_ called it off.”

“That’s...”

“Surprising, I know,” Robb looks down at his hands that still grip the cold coffee cup in front of him. “She knew something I didn’t even know. I couldn’t commit fully, I wasn’t –“

“In love with her,” Jon finishes softly.

_“Yeah.”_

Before anything else can happen, the doorbell rings.

Robb turns in his seat, looking towards the living room. “Who could that be?”

“Probably another casserole from the neighbors,” Sansa says with a snort.

“I’ll get it.” Robb gets to his feet and walks out of the kitchen, trailing the short hallway to the living room. Through the curtained front window, he glimpses a shock of scarlet curls and quickly pulls the door open. “Ygritte?”

Gone are the funeral clothes, replaced by jeans and an oversized red sweater that drapes off one shoulder. Her hair is braided back and he glimpses a constellation tattoo traced on her skin. Robb pulls his eyes back up to the woman’s face, managing a smile. She suddenly thrusts a tupperware container at his chest that he almost drops. “For the boys,” she says. “I figured, since you probably have a fridge full of nasty casseroles that they would like something special for them.”

Robb cannot help but stare but Ygritte doesn’t seem to notice. “I’ll see you around, Robb. I hope you enjoy the food.”

And then she’s gone.

Robb pops the lid on the container and the most delicious aroma hits his nostrils as he sees at least two dozen obviously freshly baked chocolate macadamia cookies. Bran and Rickon’s favorite. Robb looks back up but Ygritte is long gone, the sound echoing in his ears of her rickety truck rattling down the road.

“Who was that?” Sansa asks as he walks back into the kitchen.

“That was –“ his gaze cuts to Jon for a moment. “Ygritte.” Jon’s brows rise but he says nothing. “She was dropping these off for Bran and Rickon.” He sets the tupperware down on the table and Sansa curiously pops the top.

“Oooh, chocolate and macadamia cookies? Ouch!” She shakes out her hand where Robb had just slapped it. “What was that for?”

“They’re for the boys, not you.”

Sansa sits back in her seat, her stomach suddenly heaving as the smell of chocolate and sugar tickles her nostrils. “You okay?” Sansa shakes her head, clamping a hand over her mouth as she gets to her feet and bolts from the kitchen. She barely makes it to the bathroom before vomiting up what little was in her stomach.

That’s the second time she’s thrown up today. After it had happened this morning after attempting to make eggs for breakfast, Sansa had chalked it up to nerves but now –

Now _..._

Sansa flips open the medicine cabinet and her eyes fall on the box of tampons that Arya had left behind.

_Shit._

-;

She stops at the store on the way home, picking up a pizza (which thankfully doesn’t make her want to barf) and two home pregnancy tests. Harry still wasn’t picking up the phone and Sansa was starting to get worried.

The keys jangle in her hand as she unlocks the door to her apartment, and Lady suddenly starts to bark like crazy. Sansa nearly drops the pizza box, shifting and tripping over her dog as she staggers to the right and lets the box fall onto the kitchen counter. “Lady what the hell is –“ She pushes her hair from her eyes and notices something is quite wrong.

Her malamute blinks rapidly as the light pools across the floor of the apartment. “Harry?”

Her fiancee doesn’t make an appearance. He doesn’t come out of the bedroom, blinking sleep from his eyes or from the bathroom, shaking water out of the hair. He’s not –

Lady barks again and Sansa notices her dog is practically vibrating. “Shit, you didn’t get your walk, did you?”

_Bork!_

“All right, let’s go.”

They just make it to the sidewalk before Lady squats and relieves herself. Sansa coaxes her around to the back parking lot (she had parked in front today) where Harry usually left his SUV and sees it gone.

“I don’t –“

Lady makes a noise from her side, and Sansa’s fingers search the air, coming to rest on Lady’s soft ears. The malamute pushes her head into Sansa’s hand, the mere movement a comfort.

When they go back upstairs, Sansa notices something white on the floor that must have gotten knocked to the floor when she put the pizza there. Leaning down, she picks the paper up off the floor and turns it over. There’s a silver key taped to it, with two words scrawled on in Harry’s chicken scratch.

_I’m sorry._

Sansa sinks to the floor, her back to the counter. Lady kneels beside her and Sansa knows the poor pup is probably hungry. She makes to get up, to keep trying and her knees just won’t work. Lady whines again but nuzzles her wet nose against Sansa’s cheek, her sandpaper like tongue giving her kisses. Or wiping away her tears, she’s not sure.

Sansa brushes her fingers against Lady’s neck, wrapping her arms around the dog’s body as her tears turn into great heaving sobs. Lady patiently rests her head against Sansa’s shoulder as she weeps, the dog whining just a bit and for a moment, Sansa thinks her beloved dog is crying with her.

She’s all cried out. There’s nothing left in her to let go.

Sansa climbs to her feet and shakily walks over to the cabinet where Lady’s food is kept. “Are you hungry, girl?”

-;

Her phone rests on the side of the bathroom sink, the numbers of the timer ticking backward as she waits.

The pregnancy tests rest on the closed toilet and Sansa avoids looking at them even after the timer goes off on her phone. She already knows what the answer is going to be and frankly, she’s not ready for it.

 _Don’t be an idiot._ Yeah that little voice sounds an awful lot like Arya.

With a sigh, Sansa gets up from the side of the bathtub and stands over the toilet lid, letting her gaze blur for just a moment.

 _Positive._ Both of the tests were positive.

Sansa isn’t really sure what she was expecting. Even now, with the proof in her hand the father of her child nowhere to be found, it still doesn’t feel real. 

She wonders if it ever will.

She wants her mother. She wants someone here to hold her hand and tell her everything will be okay.

Her phone is ringing.

Sansa’s fingers are shaking as she reaches for it, her trembling hand knocking it to the linoleum floor. When she finally grasps the small device, Jon’s name blinks back at her on the caller id. Jon, Jon, _Jon..._

 _“_ J-Jon?”

_“Hey Sansa – what’s wrong?”_

Those damn tears are falling again. Sansa licks one off of her lip, her voice coming out in a croak. “Can you come? I n-need you right now.”

Jon’s quiet on the other end for a moment. “ _I’ll be there in five minutes.”_

And he is.

.

.

**OOOOHHHHHHH MMMMMMYYYYYY GOSSSSHHHHH.**

**Guys, I am so excited to bring this story back. I really love you all so much for being so patient and I hope ya’ll picked up my little teases here and there. And yes I know about the plot holes. Don't worry, those are gonna get filled in as we go. Please do leave me your thoughts in the box below, especially if you would like another installment. Thank you all so so so much.**


	2. Jon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life happens...so does stuff...

.

.

Jon uses his key and walks slowly into the apartment. Lady begins to bark when she spots him, dashing over and pawing at his leg for the treats he always carries in his coat pocket. Jon’s gaze darts around the messy apartment, resting on the ice cold pizza still sitting on the counter and Sansa’s purse laying on the floor, the contents spilling out.

“Sansa?”

“ _Back here_.”

Sansa’s sitting, no _slumped_ on the floor in the bathroom, feet spread out in front of her. Lady huffs and kneels down at Sansa’s side, bumping her knee with her head. Jon’s eyes go to the smears of tears on his best friend’s face before they flicker to the two pregnancy tests still sitting on the lid of the closed toilet. “Sansa...”

“You can look at them,” she nods. “Go ahead.”

He does, heart hammering in his ears. Something inside of Jon already knows what he’s about to read and sure enough – “Shit, San.”

“I’ve been sitting here for the past hour, trying to figure out what the hell I am going to do.” Sansa scrubs angrily at her eyes with her fist, suddenly looking very much like a very small child. She lets out a small shaky sob and Jon kneels beside her. “And I don’t _know.”_ The last word comes out in a gasp. “Harry’s gone and –“

“Wait, _what?_ What do you mean he’s gone?”

Sansa gestures haphazardly towards the living room. “I c-came h-home and Lady hadn’t been w-walked and there was this n-note with his key taped to it.”

“So that’s why he didn’t show up at the funeral,” Jon says quietly. “Sansa, _shit,_ I am so sorry.”

Sansa shakes her head, sucking in deep breaths through her nose. “I don’t...I don’t know what I am going to do. My parents are _dead_ , my fiance is god knows where and I am left here knocked up.” A wild sounding laugh leaves her lips. “I’m sorry.”

“What do you have to be sorry about?” Jon asks her. “You have every right to lose your shit.”

“But –“

“Sansa, _no.”_ Jon gently grabs her hand. “Yell, scream, jump up and down. Let it out.”

Sansa opens her mouth and suddenly yawns. She slaps a hand over her mouth and laughs, Jon joining her. “Thanks, Jon.”

Jon dips his head, easing his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close until she’s practically sitting in his lap. She wraps her arm around his middle and snuggles against his chest, not giving a single shit that they are curled together on the bathroom floor of all places.

They remain like that until Jon’s phone rings, startling the both of them out of their reverie. “Jesus,” Jon mutters, reaching his hand into his jacket pocket and pulling the small square device out. “It’s Tormund. Hey, Tormund.” Sansa hears angry muttering on the other end but cannot make out the words. “Hey – hey – all right, I will be right there.” Jon hangs the phone up and looks down at her. “The water main at the new project house suddenly exploded.”

Sansa gapes. “Oh god, that’s –“

“Incredibly sucky,” Jon finishes and Sansa laughs. “Are you going to be okay if I leave for a bit?”

She pats his chest with her hand and eases away. “I’ll be fine. I’d rather get stinking drunk right now but –“ her eyes drift to her belly and she lets out a sigh. “That’s not gonna happen for a while.”

“Sansa, if you need me to stay, I’m sure I can get Edd too –“

Sansa shakes her head. “Go Jon. I’m all right.”

Jon eyeballs her disbelievingly but doesn’t argue, and they both clamper to their feet. Lady bounces up too, bumping her head against Jon’s hand. His fingers stroke through her soft fur. “You call me later, all right? Or I’ll call you just to make sure –“

“ _Jon.”_ She plants a kiss on his cheek, startling both of them. “Go to work. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He leaves then, the words _‘thank you’_ just a whisper on Sansa’s lips but she knows he hears her.

-;

“Look at this.”

Sansa pushes her hair out of her eyes and peers at the framed photograph that Robb had just stuck in her face. She sees herself, Robb, and Jon smiling back up at her, young and toothless and oh so happy.

“Where did you find that?”

Robb gestures to the nightstand. “Tucked in the drawer. The frame is cracked on the corner, see?”

“Dad was probably going to replace it,” Sansa muses. “He is, uh, _was_ such a perfectionist.”

Arya smiles softly, getting to her feet to walk over to the closet and pull it open. “Hey San, do you want this?” She gently slides out a long rose and peach scarf and loops it around her own neck. “You always liked it best.”

“Are you okay with that?” Sansa asked, getting to her feet to trot over where her sister stood. Her hand shakes as it reaches out to touch the scarf and Arya lifts it from her neck and gently loops it back around hers.

“It looks terrible with your hair. Looked terrible with Mom’s hair too but hell, she didn’t care.”

Sansa grins, wrapping the scarf more tightly around her and sticking a hip out. “What do you think?”

Arya waves a hand, cocking her head to the side. “Absolutely _darling!”_ she trills.

Robb rolls his eyes from the floor, opening up another box. “Oh shit.”

“What’s the matter?”

Sansa watches as Robb unearths a big stack of papers with legal type all over them. “Brienne asked me to look for this. It’s the deed to the house and all the other mumbo jumbo. I have to...I have to put all of this in my name.”

“All of what?” Arya asks.

“Everything Mom and Dad owned. The house –“ He waggles his fingers upward towards the ceiling. “The bank accounts, the land, everything.”

“There wasn’t much to begin with,” Sansa muses.  

“Yeah I know,” Robb interrupts. “Dad had so many hiding places all over the house, it’s gonna take weeks before I find everything I need.”

“We’ll help,” Arya affirms. “In whatever way we can.”

Robb smiles sadly. “Thanks you two.”

Sansa rubs a hand across her stomach and her heart tears in two at the sight of her brother’s lost and confused face. And then –

“I’m pregnant.”

Oh shit, yeah it wasn’t supposed to come out like that.

“Huh?” is Arya’s reply. Robb just stares.

Sansa’s face heats up as she hastens to explain everything that had happened in the last few days. She places a hand on Arya’s arm when she sees her sister’s face contort with anger, her voice becoming more hurried as she rushes to get the rest of her story out. She lived it, she isn’t too anxious to relive it once again.

Robb’s quiet when she runs out of the breath she needs to talk anymore. Arya’s hand suddenly comes up and covers Sansa’s. “You can’t afford that apartment, can you?”

Sansa blinks, surprised at Robb’s choice of words. “Uh, no?”

“Then you will have to move back home,” he states and Sansa exchanges a glance with Arya.

“Robb, I – I cannot do that to you. That’s not what I was looking for –“

“I know,” her brother says softly. “I know there’s barely enough room here at home but we’ll make it work. At least until you get back on your feet.”

“But you’re not on your feet either,” Sansa protests. “Do you really want an irritable, moody, _mean_ sister around all the time?”

“It’s no different than usual,” Robb replies, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smile.

Arya lightly kicks him in the foot. “Very funny.”

Sansa looks back at Arya, raising a finger. “Is he even real?”

“I don’t think so. No one’s that good,” Arya replies with a grin. They both turn to Robb. “ _Awwwww.”_

_“Awwwww.”_

“Oh shut up!”

-;

Sansa sits on the chilly table, wearing nothing other than the flimsy hospital gown and her socks and feeling quite exposed. The nurse had been in and out several times, taking down vitals and such and she had stopped paying attention about ten minutes ago as she waited for the doctor to arrive.

At that moment, there’s a light knock on the door and an absolutely beautiful dark haired woman in a white coat sticks her head around the corner. “Hi, Sansa Stark?”

Sansa sits up a little straighter, nodding. “That’s me.”

The doctor walks back in with the nurse, pulling the chart from the wall. “I’m Dr. Martell, you can call me Elia. How are you feeling today? Any morning sickness?”

Sansa shakes her head. “Not yet. I’m kind of afraid of that.”

Elia nods with a smile. “Understandable. When I had my first, I actually _lost_ weight, I was sick so much.”

“That was my mom when she was pregnant with my brother Bran,” Sansa says thoughtfully.

“Every woman is different. It may be like that for you, it may be easy street,” Elia looks down at the chart. “Your vitals are good. You are a little underweight for your age though. Are you eating all right?”

“Uh...not really?” She glances at the nurse, who smiles at her. Sansa’s eyes narrow on the nametag and just makes out the words _Jeyne Poole, RN._ Jeyne. Huh, ironic. “My parents died two weeks ago and my siblings and I have been so busy with everything that I haven’t really thought about it.”

Elia’s face twisted in sympathy. “I am so sorry to hear about that.” She gently pats Sansa’s shoulder. “I am going to pull the doctor card though. You need to remember to eat at least two meals a day because your baby is going to need all of the nutrients from your body. You cannot afford to miss out, all right?”

Sansa dips her head. “Understood.”

“All right, honey. Jeyne, can you get Sansa a blanket for her legs? Sansa are you ready to hear your baby’s heartbeat?”

 _More than anything in the world._ “Yes.”

Jeyne finds a soft blue blanket to cover Sansa’s legs and helps her lay back on the gurney. Elia pulls up the computer and together she and Jeyne carefully ease up Sansa’s gown until her still flat stomach is exposed. Elia squirts some cold goo from a bottle onto her belly, making Sansa flinch as she places the end of the wand on her skin and begins to ease it around.

At first, nothing happens. There’s grey matter on that screen and Sansa begins to panic. What if, what if, _what if –_

“There we go.”

The room fills up with what Sansa later recounts as the most beautiful sound.

_Thrum, thrum, thrum..._

“Is that it?”

Jeyne grins, patting her hand. “That’s it.”

Elia points to the screen, gesturing to a small peanut shape. “Do you see that? There is your baby.”

The image on the screen could be a lima bean for all she knows. But as she stares at it, and listens to the steady thrumming echoing around her, Sansa suddenly understands what her mother had said so long ago when she learned she was pregnant with Bran.

_Love just comes steady, softly, and then all at once._

She barely notices when Elia and Jeyne leave the room. Sansa continues to gaze at the screen, almost unable to take her eyes away. She doesn’t cry this time. There are no more tears to come.

A simple calmness has taken over and Sansa lets it because...well because that’s what Starks do.

They endure. They always have.

-;

“Martell...are you related to the brothers that own Martell’s diner?”

The pretty woman nods, a smile on her face. “They’re _my_ brothers.”

Sansa’s eyebrows raise. “Really? That is so cool!” Elia laughs softly. “That peach pie they serve is – well I hate this saying but it’s true –“

“To die for?” Elia finishes and Sansa nods, laughing. “It was Doran’s creation. When he finally had to pass the recipe on to Oberyn, I think Oberyn got his hands smacked with a ruler at least five times until he got it just right.”

Sansa snorts. “That sounds like me and my sister.”

“Doran is very protective of his recipes and he gets a bit twitchy when he has to pass them down. His wife Mel still doesn’t know where he hides his cookbooks.” Elia smiles at Sansa’s laughter. “How many siblings do you have?”

“Four. I’m second in the family actually. My brother Robb is the eldest and I have a younger sister. We have two little brothers that are six and four. After my, uh, parents died Robb’s taking care of our little brothers now.”

Sansa doesn’t look away this time when Elia’s face contorts with sympathy again. The woman’s hand gently darts out and grabs hers, giving it the softest of squeezes and she offers no words.

“Thank you.”

Elia’s eyebrows raise in surprise and before she can say anything else, a voice calls out.

_“Sansa!”_

Sansa looks around to see Jon walking towards her. Her face spreads out in a smile that matches his own. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

“I –“

“Are you Sansa’s other half?” Elia suddenly cuts in and before Jon can say anything, she shakes his hand. “I’m Dr. Martell, Sansa’s OB. Here is a copy of your baby’s sonogram. Sansa, it was lovely to meet you and I will see you in a month?”

Jon opens and closes his mouth wordlessly as Sansa nods. “Thanks so much.”

“You’re welcome. I have to meet my next patient. Have a good day!” And then she’s gone, in a whirl of white coat and long hair.

Jon stares after the doctor before shifting his gaze to her. “I’m not –“

Sansa waves a hand, getting to her feet. “Don’t worry about it.” She gestures to the picture still hanging loosely from Jon’s fingers. “What do you think?”

“Huh? Oh! Uh...” His brow furrows and Sansa laughs softly, pointing to the tiny peanut shape on the murky photo. “Holy shit.”

“Soon he or she will look like an alien and then a baby,” Sansa explains. “Right now, just a dot.”

“Wow.”

“What are you doing here?”

“What am I – oh! Robb and Arya sent me to pick you up.”

“Why?”

Jon gently grabs her hand, smiling mischievously. “You’ll see.”

-;

Her apartment looks like a bomb went off.

Boxes are scattered everywhere and Rickon is currently in a game of tug of war with Lady over one of the boxes, the dog yapping happily as Rickon giggles. Robb sighs tiredly, reaching in to gently pry the box flap from Lady’s teeth, wiping away the doggy slobber. “Sorry, Lady, we need this.”

“Sansa, you sure have a lot of crap,” Arya’s walking out of the bedroom carrying an armful of pillows and to Sansa’s surprise, Ygritte follows.

The other redhead easily reads her face. “I had nothing better to do,” she shrugs and Sansa doesn’t quite believe her.

“I don’t –“

“It was the least we could do,” Bran chirps from his spot on the floor. All of her DVDs are spread across the hardwood and he slides them one by one into a box beside his right hip.

“Are those hormonal tears?” Arya asks, an eyebrow raised.

Sansa wipes at her face. “ _Yes.”_ She casts a smile at Jon and pitches in to help.

Her landlord had been surprisingly patient with her when she had explained she was going to be moving out and the circumstances of it. He gave her two weeks to get all of her stuff out before getting charged another month’s rent.

Sansa busies herself helping Bran and Rickon go through all of her movies and getting them sorted into the box that Bran had already started. Robb and Jon argue over how to collapse the bed in the bedroom and before Ygritte goes to break it up, the doorbell rings.

“Pizza man!” Sansa bursts out laughing at the sight of Theon attempting to carry in four large pies, letting them fall with a splat on the kitchen counter. “And a doggy bone for you, Lady!” He adds, digging into his pocket and pulling out a large milkbone. Lady obediently sits and Theon tosses the bone straight into the air. Her dog is as graceful as a leopard as she leaps into the air and snatches the bone before growling softly and heading over to her bed to rip into it.

“Hey Theon.” Sansa accepts the hug he offers her, holding on tight for a moment. “Thanks for this.”

“No problem,” her old friend replies. “Yara and Marg are on the way over. Marg had some board meeting at her charity that ran late.”

“Uncle Theon!” Theon glances down at the tugging on his pant leg, grinning at the sight of Rickon’s hopeful face. “Piggy back ride?”

“But of course!” He kneels down. “Hop on!”

“ _Be_ careful there,” Robb warns from across the room.

“Hey, give me a little bit more credit. Careful is my middle name.” Arya snorts and Theon scowls.

The apartment is abuzz with chatter, eager chomping of the pizza and swearing in Scottish curses as something heavy accidentally falls onto Ygritte’s foot. Yara and Margaery show up as the place turns into a maze of boxes and Sansa is trying to stop Arya from throwing some expensive figurine that Harry’s parents had given them right out the window.

“Let me _hock_ it. It’s worth like five grand I think!”

Arya sighs but hands over the doo-dad. “Whatever.”

Sansa quickly stuffs the ugly statue into a box marked pillows and looks up to find Jon watching her. “What?”

Jon cocks his head towards their friends, a whisper of a smile on his lips. “Do you want to move in with me?”

“Huh?”

He shakes his head, cheeks tinting pink. “Okay, I didn’t mean for that to come out so abrupt.”

Sansa’s gaze narrows and she waits for the punchline that never comes. “Jon, I –“

He moves in closer, gently taking her hands. “I cannot believe I am offering this but _yes._ Move in with me. It would be so much easier that way. I have an extra bedroom that is currently filled up with tools and shit that belongs at Wildings and this gives me an excuse to get it out. Robb can focus on taking care of the boys and he won’t have to worry about you. You will also be ten minutes closer to work.”

“Well there is _that,”_ Sansa muses with a small laugh. She flickers her gaze back up to his earnest grey one. “Jon, I am gonna be a _mess_ for the next seven months. It won’t be easy having me around.”

“Nothing different there – _kidding!”_ He ducks the playful slap Sansa aims at the back of his head. “Nah it’s fine. _Really,”_ he insists and Sansa seriously considers this.

Her gaze shifts to Robb. He sits on the floor beside Rickon, their auburn haired heads bent close as the tiny boy whispers something obviously quite important to him, little hands waving dramatically. Bran is trying to sucker an unyielding Yara into doing something for him, the pretty woman shaking her head, eyes closed. “ _Robb,_ come get your child!”

Rickon giggles in joy as Robb wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him right off of his feet, carrying him back over to where he and Bran had sat. Sansa also notes the way Ygritte watches them, her eyes soft.

“Well...”

When she looks back at Jon, she finds herself feeling something she hadn’t felt in ages. Something that she couldn’t quite put her finger on and she wasn’t going to think about it right at this moment.

“My building also allows pets,” Jon adds.

“Okay,” she agrees immediately.  

Jon laughs. “I had a feeling.”

Rickon’s laughter distracts them both again and they watch as Robb gently tickles the small boy’s sides as the sound of his laughter heightens and carries, almost like a song.

Sansa squeezes Jon’s hand tightly and his thumb strokes the back of hers.

Yeah, they’re going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they were roommates. *wink wink* 
> 
> Leave reviews if you want the next chapter!


	3. All It Needs To Be

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jon does some nagging and Robb is awkward...

 

.

.

Sansa looks around the apartment, admiring the finished result. She had taken great care not to change around Jon’s touch, just to add a few things of her own and to keep everything _Sansa_ in her own room. She was already very much in love with this place but the only thing she didn’t really care for was the fact that there was only _one_ bathroom.

Alas, she’d learn to deal. She had shared a bathroom with Arya her whole life, what’s this going to change?

The small clock on the wall chimes seven and Sansa scoops up her bag. She wants to get to work early so she can talk to her boss Tyrion about the maternity leave she is going to need in six and a half months. Sansa doesn’t think Tyrion is going to give her an argument about it, she is union protected so there’s that. Being the receptionist to the principal of Westeros Middle School had its merits.

“Bye Jon!” she shouts as she walks out the door, her new house key attached to her car keys that were gripped tightly in her hands.

“Bye!” Jon shouts back from the bathroom. Probably primping over his perfect man-bun, she thinks as she heads out.

Sansa nearly weeps when she orders a decaf coffee from the nearby Dunkin Donuts. Elia had informed her that she needed to cut her caffeine intake down to one cup a day for the remainder of her pregnancy and also well into the beginning of her baby’s life if she planned to breastfeed.

There were so many things that Sansa was learning, day by day, that she desperately wished she had her mother for.

The drive to work is short and to her surprise, Tyrion is already in the office when she uses her key. “Hello Sansa,” the small man greets her.

“Hi, what are you doing here so early?” Sansa shifts her bag from her shoulder and sets it down on the desk. “I usually don’t see you until close to 8:30.”

“I know. I had to come in to get some paper work filed for the new year that I was just too lazy to do last Friday.”

Sansa snorts, settling down at her desk and turning on her computer. Tyrion retreats to his office and all is quiet for a good twenty minutes as Sansa tries to work up the nerve to get up and knock on his door.

She’s distracted by a few students’ arriving and she signs them in. The hallways soon become abuzz with chatter and footsteps of the hundreds of students, many filing in and out of her office, trailed by irritated teachers and frustrated hall monitors. Sansa signs in four students that are late and sends home two that are sick. When she is digging around in her bag for the sandwich she had packed Tyrion’s presence to her right startles her so much she nearly tosses her peanut butter and jelly up in the air.

“Sorry to scare you,” he chuckles. “I just wanted to ask, did you –“

“Mr. Lannister!” she interrupts and Tyrion raises a yellow brow. “I have something I need to tell you.”

“By all means, Sansa, what is the matter? You look as nervous as a cat.”

Sansa bites her lip hard enough to draw blood and glances down at her left hand. The silver ring that Harry gave her months ago is still there and wonders why the heck she hasn’t tossed that thing in the trash yet. “I’m having a baby in a little over six months and I am going to need more time off.”

Tyrion laughs then, surprising her. “You were terrified to tell me _that?_ Sansa, that’s wonderful.”

“It is? I mean, it is!” Sansa feels her face heating up and she mumbles an apology.

Tyrion pats her hand. “Harry must be delighted.”

“Uh, actually –“ And then for some reason, she is spilling her guts to her boss. He sits right there and listens, only interrupting once to ask a question about her little brothers and how they were faring.

He gets up slowly when she stops talking, walking over to the small mini fridge by the window and pulling out a bottle of water, passing it to her. When Sansa raises a questioning brow, he shrugs a shoulder. “When someone is upset at my house, they’re given water.”

“But I’m not upset...?”

“Oh. Okay.”

He takes the water back and Sansa starts to laugh. “Thank you, Tyrion.”

Her boss nods, awkwardly popping the top on the water and taking a drink himself. “Forgive me, emotions are not really my forte.”

“Is that why you became a principal?” Sansa asks.

“They’re already deemed the ‘unfeeling bad guy’ so why not?” he shrugs. “Listen to me, Ms. Stark, if there is _anything_ you need, do let me know. All right?”

Touched, Sansa nods. “Thank you.”

“And Sansa?”

“Yeah?”

Tyrion holds a finger to his lips. “Don’t tell anyone that mean old Principal Lannister has a heart, all right?”

Laughing, Sansa agrees.

-;

After finishing the last of his reports at Frey’s, Robb scurried quickly from the office and headed to his car, shooting off a quick text to Gilly Tarly that he was on the way. He glances at the clock on his dash and groans in annoyance. Frey had kept him an hour longer than he was supposed to be and now he was very late picking the boys up from the sitter.

When he pulls up in front of the small blue house that Rickon gets dropped at in the morning when he has to go to work and where Bran is brought too after school, he sees his two small brothers passing a football back and forth in the yard. Gilly sits on the porch watching them, her two year old son nestled safely in her lap.

“Hi Robb!” Rickon waves, tossing the football to the ground and running over to him. Robb sinks down to his knees and pulls the boy into his arms. “Missed you!”

“I missed you too,” Robb whispers back tiredly. He manages a smile for Bran, who is walking over for his own hug. “You two ready to go home?”

Bran’s hug is a little bit more stiff than Rickon’s. “Yeah. Bye Miss Gilly!”

Gilly waves Sam’s little hand. “Bye Rickon! Bye Bran! See you tomorrow!”

Robb waves his thanks before helping the boys into the car. Rickon was still quite small for his age and had to ride in a carseat, which he wasn’t too happy about. “I’m sorry I was a little late today.”

Bran shifts in his seat, reaching down to open up his bookbag. “’s okay.”

Robb sighs softly, shaking his head. It’s really not okay. He manages to make small talk with the boys the drive home, Rickon chirping in more cheerfully than Bran does over the twenty five minutes. As he pulls the car up into the driveway, he notices Jon’s dark red truck already parked there.

“What’s Jon doing here?”

“Didn’t you want him to fix the window in the mud room?” Bran supplies.

“Oh yeah.”

“Hey Robb?”

“Yeah, Rickon?”

“Are there any more of those cookies Ygritte brought by?”

Robb laughs as he unbuckles Rickon’s seatbelt. “Actually no, I put the last two in your lunches this morning.”

“Oh.” Bran laughs this time at the perfect pout Rickon manages.

“I have a suggestion though,” Robb says.

“What’s a suggestion?” Rickon asks, eyes wide.

Bran leans his head in, wrapping his arm around his little brother’s shoulders. “It means he’s gonna make us do something we don’t want to do.”

Robb rolls his eyes. “ _No._ How about you two make a nice thank you card for Ygritte and maybe, just maybe, that might get her to give us the recipe so we can make those cookies here at home?”

“Not gonna happen.” Robb jumps slightly when a disheveled Jon walks in from the back hall as they shut the front door behind them. “Ygritte threatened to ice me when I started poking around for something else she had that she wouldn’t share.”

“Maybe you didn’t ask nicely?” Bran replies.

Jon chuckles, smiling down at the young boy. “Maybe you’re right.”

Bran and Rickon head into the kitchen, dropping their bookbags and coats along the way. Robb leans down to pick them up, catching Jon’s eye as he does. “What?”

“You’re home late.”

“Thanks for noticing, _honey.”_

Jon rolls his eyes. “Did Frey keep you late again?”

“ _Yes_ Frey kept me late again.”

Jon walks over to his tool box that he left discarded on the coffee table. “Don’t have to be snippy about it, Robb.”

“I’m _not_ – okay, yeah I am a little. Sorry.”

Jon smiles gently. “The window’s all fixed. That last storm knocked out the frame so you had a big hole in the insulation.”

“Thanks. How much do I owe you?”

Jon waves his hand. “Nothing. Just a cup of coffee.”

“That I can do.” The two men walk into the kitchen to see Bran and Rickon sitting at the table pouring over a large piece of construction paper. “What are you doing?”

“Making the thank you card for Ygritte!” Rickon waves a red crayon about for a moment before returning to scribble on the paper. Bran’s whispering something that Jon cannot quite hear and Rickon then laughs, nodding in agreement.

“How are the Freys treating you?” Jon asks as Robb finishes preparing the coffee.

“Oh same old crap,” Robb replies, opening the fridge door for the creamer. “It’s really nothing new, Walder Frey likes to walk all over his employees.”

Jon glances at the two boys at the table and back at his friend as he digs around in the fridge. “Hey, uh, why don’t you come to work at Wildlings?”

Robb grunts when he smacks his head on the top of the fridge. He looks at Jon, his fingers rubbing over his mussed curls. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re good with a hammer and nails, right?”

“Well, yeah but –“

“Freys’ is a shitty architecture firm. Why do you work there?”

Robb shuts the fridge door a little harder than intended. “Because it pays good money.”

Jon raises a brow. “So does Wildlings.” Robb scoffs in annoyance. “Just think about it. Tormund’s been talking about hiring on a couple of extra people. It pays health insurance and you get the holidays and one day a week off. You may have to travel a little bit outside of Boston but...”

Robb holds up a hand, stopping him. “Jon, thank you, but _no.”_

“Fine.”

“And don’t pout.”

“I’m not pouting!”

Robb presses a mug into his hand, eager to change the subject. “How’s Sansa this morning?”

Jon shrugs a shoulder. “She left at the crack of dawn to go to work.” He glances at the clock on the wall. “She’s probably heading home right about now.”

Robb shakes his head. “I still cannot believe you asked her to move in with you. That’s going to be a lot very soon.”

“I know,” Jon admits, voice soft. “She’s –“ He noisily clears his throat. “Here’s another idea. How about you let me and Sansa take these two for the day on Saturday and you can get some rest?”

Robb raises a brow. “Uh, _actually...”_ He shifts his feet underneath him, staring at an interesting point in the floor.

Jon pounces like a cat on his cornered prey. “You’re working that day, aren’t you?” he hisses.

Robb nods. “Frey said I needed to make up some of the documents I missed while I was out.”

“While you –“ Jon snaps, his voice a whisper. Robb shushes him, glancing worriedly at the boys. “Robb –“

“Hey, Bran, Rickon –“ Robb turns away and the boys look up from their work. “Saturday, Jon and Sansa are gonna take you out for a picnic, how does that sound?”

“Will you be coming too?” Bran asks, his eyes resting on his brother’s face.

“Um, _no._ I have to go into work for a few hours. But if you get your card done, I can drop it off at Ygritte’s before I go in.”

Rickon nods. “Okay! I hope she likes it.”

Jon smiles, rubbing his hand over Rickon’s messy curls. “I’m sure she will, buddy.” He takes the last sips of his coffee and passes the mug back to Robb. “I gotta head home. Bright and early on Saturday, boys.”

He hears twin choruses of “Bye Jon!” as he walks out, not surprised when Robb says nothing at all.

-;

“We’re what?”

Sansa rests on the couch, ginger brows up so far on her forehead as she regards Jon. Jon suddenly feels about four years old, practically fidgeting where he stands. “We’re going to take Bran and Rickon early on Saturday for a ‘picnic’.” Jon finishes out the sentence with air quotes and all. Sansa hides a smile. “I was actually intending a movie or something but I think Robb was getting me back for all the nagging.”

“Why were you nagging him?” Jon tells Sansa everything, lowering himself down on the sofa beside her. Lady hops up, plopping her head in Sansa’s lap. “Oh Jon, _jeez...”_

“I know it’s none of my business but come on. The three of us –“ he gestures between the two of them. “ – we’ve been friends for ages. It’s –“

“It’s what we do,” Sansa finishes with a smile. She grabs his hand, giving it a light squeeze. “You’re too good, you know that?” She enjoys the way Jon’s ears tinge red. “It’s true! And I like the idea of a picnic.”

“Do you think you can work on him? He hates Freys’ with a passion, he’d be so much happier at Wildlings.”

“I know he would, Jon but Robb is Robb. You’ve known him since he was eight years old, have you ever seen him actually _listen_ to a suggestion that turns out to be the best for him?” Jon shakes his head. “He’ll come around, just give him time.”

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

“He’ll be all right.” Even when the words fall over Sansa’s lips, she doesn’t quite believe them.

She sure hopes she is right though.

-;

True to Jon’s word, he and Sansa arrive at eight on Saturday to collect Bran and Rickon. Robb remembers Catelyn suggesting to Ned about getting a backpack leash for Rickon, due to his habit of disappearing in public places and finds himself wishing he had paid closer attention to his mother’s words as he watches his sister and best friend lead the two small boys away.

After collecting the rest of the documents and the card for Ygritte, Robb climbs into his car and heads to the city. The air is warmer than usual and he rolls down the window to feel the crisp air.

Ygritte’s apartment is three miles outside of the city. She lives in a four story house actually, on the first floor he immediately notes when he sees her leaning out the window and waving what looks to be a large canvas. She beams at the sight of him coming up the front walk and disappears inside, returning moments later at the front door.

“Hullo Robb, what are you doing here?”

Robb holds out the envelope. “Bran and Rickon made this for you.”

Ygritte takes the paper, her red lips curving into a smile when she sees the front. “Aww this is lovely.”

“They loved the cookies, they actually want the recipe,” Robb admits with a chuckle. “But Jon said that you do not give away your secrets?”

“Well, actually, I do. But only to those willing to seek them, Robb Stark.” She lifts an eyebrow and Robb suddenly finds himself blushing. “If you want, you can bring them here and I will teach them how to make those cookies.”

“But not me?” Robb asks.

Ygritte shakes her head. “You’re not the one asking, are you?”

Robb laughs. “I suppose that’s fair. I’ll tell them tonight.”

“You’re not going home?”

“No, I have to go into work today.”

A shadow crosses Ygritte’s pretty face and she worries her bottom lip. “Jon told me he wants you to work at Wildlings Construction.”

Robb groans. “Not you too!”

Ygritte holds up a hand in surrender. “Aye, I won’t badger you about it.”

“Thank you.”

He turns to go again, Ygritte’s voice calling him back. “You might need my number, you know?”

“For...oh!” He pulls his phone out of his pocket and Ygritte rattles off the digits of her cell number. “Jon and Sansa have the boys at Kings Landing park,” he adds.

“That’s a lovely place,” Ygritte says, still smiling and Robb suddenly feels more awkward then ever. “Don’t you have to go to work?”

“Yes! Yes, I do!” He waves a hand like a freaking moron and Ygritte’s gentle laughter is ringing in his ears as he makes an escape.

-;

“I am King Aemon and I am here to save the beautiful princess!”

Sansa makes a swooning noise, flopping into the grass as Rickon waves his fake sword (a tree branch with the sharp parts snapped off) at Jon, who is the evil dragon. Bran watches them from his perch in the tree, guiding Rickon on his quest.

Lady barks and dances, leaping up to gently push on Rickon’s chest with her paws and knocking the small boy into the grass. Rickon giggles in joy, wrapping his arms lightly around Lady’s neck and giving her a kiss on the nose. “I love you, Lady!”

Sansa quickly hides her tears, blaming them on her hormones. “She loves you too, little brother.”

Jon the dragon is defeated, flopping into the grass with a dramatic groan. Rickon climbs onto his chest. “I win!” he declares with a triumphant roar.

“Hey Sansa! Jon!”

Sansa looks up to see Ygritte striding across the grass towards them, her ancient truck parked on the side of the road. “Hey Ygritte! What are you doing here?”

Bran clampers down from the tree to join them. “Did you bring more cookies?”

“Bran!” Jon admonishes lightly.

Ygritte laughs. “Actually no. I have something better.” Bran and Rickon are chattering over each other when she finishes her proposition, getting almost to the point of pushing each other in their excitement.

“Why is that a four year old and a six year old can learn that but I can’t?” Jon asks.

“Because you’re not as cute as they are,” Ygritte returns flatly.

Sansa bursts into laughter as Jon pouts, reaching over to pat his arm. “Now I wouldn’t say you’re not _as_ cute but darn close?”

“Gee thanks.”

“...set up a time where someone can bring you to my apartment but –“

“How about tomorrow?”

All three adults jump about a foot in the air. Robb’s standing at Sansa’s right elbow, and he gently leans against her. “What in gods’ name are you doing here?”

Robb smiles, looking lighter than he had felt in ages. “I quit.”

Ygritte groans in relief. “Thank the _gods.”_

“What do you mean, you quit?” Jon asks.

Robb gestures towards the blankets that are spread out on the grass and the six of them settle back down. Lady flops right in the middle, not daring to miss out on any cuddles. “I brought the contracts into Frey and he started cussing and just being himself and as I listened to him rant on, I realised Jon was right.”

“I was? I mean, _yes_ of course I was!” Sansa nudges his thigh with her elbow. “How was I right again?”

Robb rolls his eyes, his gaze flittering over to Bran and Rickon’s peaceful faces as they snuggle with Lady. “Because of them,” he says softly and those three little words hold more meaning than Sansa could ever imagine. “Is that job offer still available?”

Jon’s already dialing his phone. A few minutes later, he hangs it up again and reaching out a hand towards Robb. “Welcome to Wildlings. You start Monday.”

And that’s it.

That’s all it needs to be.

.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave reviews if you would like the next chapter. xoAbbyli


	4. Hardyng

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa has a near miss and finally finds out what happened to Harry...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: I AM NOT DEAD. LIFE IS JUST REALLY BUSY! ENJOY!

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.

Tormund is a large man, standing probably six feet with wild bushy ginger hair that he keeps tied back at the nape of his neck with an elastic. He swings a large chainsaw like it weighs no more than a feather, easily slicing a large six by six board into even slices, the pieces falling to the ground like petals from a flower.

“I know he’s scary looking but don’t worry,” Jon murmurs in Robb’s ear. “His bark is worse than his bite. And Ygritte has him wrapped around her little finger.”

Robb’s eyebrows raise. “Ygritte –“

“Snow!” He looks around to see Tormund striding towards them, the chainsaw still in his hands. “And this must be Stark?”

Jon nods. “Yeah, this is Robb. Robb, this is Tormund Giantsbane.”

Tormund easily maneuvers the chainsaw to one hand and sticks out the other one, shaking Robb’s hand with vigor. “Welcome Stark. You’re not as puny as Snow made you out to be.”

Jon scoffs out a laugh as Robb raises his brows at him. “I didn’t say _that_ –“

Tormund’s chuckle is booming and he slaps Robb on the shoulder so hard that he nearly falls face first. He then points towards the crew trailer. “Get along in there and get set up with Ygritte for your pay information and whatever else she needs from you and then get back here, a’right?”

Robb agrees, trotting up the short walk with his hands deep in his jeans’ pockets. The door of the trailer flies open and he’s suddenly overcome by honeyed blue. “Robb Stark, come to join the misfits?”

He grins goofily up at Ygritte. “If you’ll have me.”

Ygritte beams and steps back to let him in. Her hand brushes up the back of his arm when he passes her, sending a tingle right up his spine. Robb squishes down the shiver that wants to follow, feeling quite like the twelve year old boy with his first crush. Ygritte takes no notice, her thick chatter filling his ears as she tells him all the ins and outs of working for this construction company.

Robb hoped being here amoung people that obviously gave a damn would help ease the gaping aching hole that had formed in his chest since the night of he was awoken out of a dead sleep to the call that the train carrying his parents had derailed and they were missing.

The phone rings then, startling them both. Ygritte picked it up. “Wildlings Construction –“ Robb watches as her eyebrows rise up her forehead. “Uh, yes they both are, hold on one second.” She passes him the phone. “It’s the hospital. Sansa was in an accident at her work.”

-;

Sansa noticed the noise from down the hall when she was still in her office. Glancing back at the Tyrion’s closed door, she got to her feet and grabbed her keycard, stuffing it in her back pocket before walking out into the hallway. The yelling and shouting got louder as she went further down the corridor, turning the corner to see at least six children in the midst of quite the argument.

As Sansa stepped closer, one little boy around ten took a swing at another boy and that was it. There’s a janitor coming down the hall the opposite way and he speeds up the same time she does. They both reach into the tussle of arms and legs at the same time and try to pull the struggling boys apart.

That’s when she’s kicked in the stomach. Hard.

The boy she had grabbed onto immediately stops struggling when he realizes what he had done, staring at her in shock and horror as Sansa releases him and wraps her hand around her stomach. Pain shoots up her abdomen, hard enough to bring tears to her eyes and she swallows a gasp.

“What the _hell_ is going on here --?” Sansa can barely make out Tyrion hurriedly trotting down the hallway in her haze of pain. “Explain this – Sansa are you all right?”

Sansa bites down hard on her bottom lip, shaking her head. “I got kicked.”

Tyrion’s eyes widen and he turns to the janitor who is still holding onto the arms of two of the other children. “Take these children to my office and stay with them.”

The janitor nods and steers the kids away, the one that kicked Sansa hanging back worriedly. “Miss Sansa, are you okay? I’m so sorry, Miss Sansa.”

Tyrion directs her to lean against the wall and she slides to the floor, both hands still wrapped around her non existent bump. She doesn’t notice Tyrion pulling his phone from his pocket and dialing, and she doesn’t notice other teachers coming out of their classrooms to see what the ruckus is all about. Someone’s talking to her and she can barely hear them as she hopes and prays that her baby is not dying.

-;

Jon nearly trips over his own feet in his haste to get in the doors. Margaery is somehow there and grabs his arm before he faceplants into the squeaky linoleum. “Easy there, Snow.”

Jon grabs her arm in return. “Where is she? Is she okay?”

Margaery nods. “She was trying to break up a fight between some kids at school and one kicked her in the stomach by accident.”

“Where is she?” Jon asks again.

Margaery points to set of double doors, the pager on her hip suddenly going off. “Right through there, Jon. Go on.”

Jon mutters a soft thank you. The door that hides Sansa seems a mile away in his haste to get there and when he does, he almost cannot go in. He raises his hand to lightly rap his knuckles against the metal and plastic and the door suddenly whips open to reveal Elia.

“Jon! Come on in.”

He looks over Elia’s shoulder to see Sansa resting on the side of a gurney, pulling her shirt down over her stomach. “Are you all right?”

Sansa nods, smiling. “The baby’s fine.”

Elia moves past Jon, almost shifting him inside. “Take the time you need, Sansa.”

“Thank you.”

Once the doctor is gone, Jon turns to Sansa. “What happened? I saw Margaery out there and she told me –“

Sansa rubs a tired hand through her mussed up pony tail. “There was a fight in the hallway and when I tried to break it up, one of the boys kicked me pretty hard in the stomach. I was in quite a bit of pain for a while.”

“But –“

Sansa produces a small picture from beside her on the gurney and passes it to him. “She’s fine.”

Jon smiles at the picture, the little bean starting to look like a baby. A beat passes before he realizes what Sansa said. “She?”

“Well Elia thinks it’s a boy but I have a gut feeling it’s a girl.” She shrugs tiredly and slides off the edge of the bed. “Can you take me home now? I want to take the longest of naps.”

Jon reaches over and gently pulls her into his arms. Sansa lets out a startled ‘ _oof’_ before relaxing, her own arms linking around his waist. “I’m glad you’re okay. You and the bean.”

Sansa’s smiling when they pull away from each other. “I’m going to owe you the longest vacation after this is all over.”

Jon chuckles, shifting to loop his arm around her shoulders. “Every day with you Starks is a vacation, Sansa.”

-;

_“You’re sure everything’s all right?”_

Sansa sighed into the phone. “Yes Robb. The baby’s fine. I’m fine. I’m going to just curl up here with Lady and get some rest. Mr. Lannister is making me take the rest of the week off anyway.”

_“Good. I’m sorry I wasn’t at the hospital, I had to go and get the boys and –“_

_“_ That’s okay. Jon had it all taken care of.” Robb makes a noise on the other end of the line that Sansa cannot discern. Rickon’s sweet baby chatter comes through the slight static and she laughs. “What does Rickon want?”

Robb chuckles. _“Tomorrow afternoon he and Bran are going to get a lesson on how to make those cookies from Ygritte and he cannot stop talking about it.”_

“Ooooh save a couple edible ones for me?”

_“Of course.”_

Sansa’s smiling as she hangs up the phone, letting it slip from her fingers and onto the nightstand. Lady pokes her head up and she pats the blankets, her pup leaping up onto the mattress with a light yip. She gently strokes her fingers through Lady’s soft fur, feeling sleep starting to weigh on her eyes, dragging her down. Jon’s puttering around in the kitchen, she can hear his quiet mumblings to himself and it’s almost...soothing. She could get used to this.

Lady lets out a long contented sigh and Sansa sleeps.

For a whole hour.

Sansa isn’t sure why she wakes up rather abruptly. Lady snores on beside her, undisturbed, not moving a muscle as Sansa tries to wiggle out from under the covers and finds that she is effectively pinned by her dog. Sighing in defeat, Sansa rolls onto her side and stretches her legs out, her toes peeking out from under the quilts. Her gaze settles on one of the boxes she had still not unpacked yet (she was so freaking slow at this), the lid open slightly. A maroon sleeve peeks out, one of the many hoodies she had stolen from Harry a lifetime ago.

Biting down hard on her lip, Sansa manages to shake Lady off and climb out of bed. Her dog huffs an annoyed grunt, getting up on all fours to pace her mattress and redo her little cocoon of blankets. Sansa reaches for her laptop and carries it back to the bed, settling down with her back against the headboard.

She isn’t surprised when she finds out that Harry’s social media had been wiped or deleted. All that remained with his parents’ business Facebook page, along with work and personal phone numbers.

When Otis Hardyng picked up the phone, Sansa almost hung up in fright. Harry’s father always intimidated her to no end and when she finally manages to squeak out a hello, she can hear the coolness slide right into his voice.

_“Hello Ms. Stark. What do I owe this pleasure?”_

Sansa swallowed again, mentally chiding herself for feeling fifteen years old. _You’re a Stark, you nitwit. You do not fear things like this._ “Hello Mr. Hardyng. How are you this evening?”

Hardyng snorted. “ _Just like your mother, young lady.”_

“I beg your pardon?”

 _“Always with the bullshit for ages,”_ Hardying replied and Sansa felt her hackles go up.

The fear gone from her voice, she says, “You want to run that by me again, Mr. Hardyng?”

_“I apologize. What I meant was, your mother was quite good at faking sincerity with people that she did not like so she could get what she wanted out of them. It’s a good thing to learn, girl.”_

Sansa bites down hard on her lip. Enough with the bullshit. “Okay fine. Where’s Harry?”

_“Now I beg your pardon.”_

“Beg it all you want. What did you do to Harry?”

She knows. She knows right then before the older man even says it. _“I did nothing to my son.”_

Lady wakes up then, sensing the tenseness in Sansa’s form. She lifts her great head and watches Sansa closely. “Did you make him leave? Did you scare him and intimidate him because you’ve always disliked me and hated our relationship?”

 _“I did nothing of the sort, young lady.”_ Sansa hears the man loudly clack his teeth together. _“Clearly, my son was unhappy in his relationship with you.”_

“He left – no _snuck away_ while I am at my parents’ funeral?” Sansa spits out. “He wouldn’t do that. He would tell me face to face.”

_“Are you sure about that?”_

“Are you insinuating your son has no spine?” Sansa retorts. Hardyng growls softly on the other end of the line. “I’d like to think he did. I thought he did. I thought he would be here for me through the most horrible time of my life.”

Hardyng makes a small noise of defeat. “ _Sansa, I am truly sorry about your parents. I am,”_ he insists. _“But I do not have any idea where my son is.”_

“And even if you did, you wouldn’t tell me.” The older man’s silence is all the answer she needs. “Mr. Hardyng....” She hesitates for a moment, wondering if she should tell him. Out of spite, she’s tempted to keep her mouth shut but – “I’m having a baby.”

There’s silence on the other end and if it wasn’t for Hardyng’s breathing, Sansa would have thought he had hung up. “What do you want?”

Sansa chokes a little before sputtering, “Nothing! Seven hells, I just thought you should know so you can maybe tell Harry? He deserves to know. I want nothing from you, Mr. Hardyng.”

And then she hears a dial tone.

Sansa groans in frustration and throws her phone with all of her might into the end of the mattress. It bounces off and hits the floor with a thud, undamaged. Lady snarls lowly in the back of her throat and Sansa reaches over to pat her on the head. “It’s okay, Lady.” A deep sigh escapes her and Sansa wonders why she’s not crying or feeling anything at all.

As Lady rests her head back on Sansa’s knee, she continues to gently drag her fingers through her pup’s soft fur. A knock comes at the door. “Come in Jon.”

He sticks his head around the edge, a brow lifted. “You all right?”

“Yeah, I think I am,” she admits honestly. He enters the bedroom and walks over to the bed, gently pushing Lady’s rear end over so he can sit down. “Harry’s father made him leave me.”

_“What?”_

Sansa nodded. “He stands to inherit sixty five percent of the Hardyng stocks when Mr. Hardyng dies and I think he threatened to take away Harry’s share and leave him penniless.”

Jon scowls. “No spine?”

Sansa shakes her head sadly. “I guess not. I don’t...” She chews her bottom lip thoughtfully. “If he comes back, if I see him again and he stays, of course I won’t keep the baby from him but –“

“You don’t think he’s going to come back,” Jon finishes for her.

Sansa nods. “Isn’t that sad?”

“Not at all. Sansa, you’ve been through a lot of shit these last few months, I kind of understand your attitude right now.”

“I sound like an ice queen.”

Jon snorts, shaking his head. “No you don’t.”

Lady moans and wriggles on the bed. Jon gets up and the dog slides off the mattress like she’s made of liquid and then pads over to the door, plopping her butt down and waiting patiently. Jon looks back at Sansa. “I made dinner if you’re hungry.”

Sansa brightens at that. “Spaghetti and salad?”

“Your favorite.”

She accepts the hand he offers her, scooting off of the bed. “You’re too good to me. Really.”

Jon waves a hand, wrinkling his nose. “Go brush your teeth, dragon breath.”

Laughing, Sansa makes for the bathroom while Lady follows Jon out to the kitchen. Shutting the door behind her, she looks in the mirror, brushing the mussed up hair out of her eyes.

She supposes she should feel a lot more right now. She’s hurt by Otis Hardyng but she’s more disappointed in Harry. And...if he does come back, if he does want to try at least for their child then she will let him. She doubts Hardyng will even contact him and let him know he’s going to be a father.

But now, _now,_ she feels something else too. She feels...peace.

Her parents, Harry, all of that were the first part of her life. She will carry her parents’ love with her wherever she goes, she will see them when she holds her baby for the first time. They will always be with her. And Harry will always be with her too. She does hope he comes back, she would hate for him to miss the baby but for now, she’s putting it all to rest.

“ _Sansa, are you ever coming out of there?”_

_“Arf!”_

Sansa smiles, reaching for the toothpaste. “Be out in a minute!”

After brushing her teeth and pulling her hair back into a ponytail, Sansa walks over to the door and rests her hand on the handle, taking a deep breath. She supposes it is kind of stupid to equate walking out of a bathroom to walking away from something but hey, that’s usually how her life works out.

She lets the breath out of her nose nice and slow, feeling a rush of butterflies in her stomach before turning the handle and walking out into the other room.

-;

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you catch the little hint hint at the very end? Did ya did ya? 
> 
> I love you all, thank you for waiting so patiently. Lots of reviews are now requested.


	5. Matchmaker, Matchmaker, make me a match

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sansa meets a pair of cousins and does a little matchmaking for her sister.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEe

.

.

Sansa hates being one of those tenants that whines about everything but she finds herself having no choice when her kitchen sink literally blows up one late afternoon while Jon is still at work. She had just come through the door after her first day back at school and was filling the tea kettle when the top of the faucet pops off and water begins to spray everywhere.

“What the --?” Sansa ducks as the water pressure gets a little harder and the spray stings her cheeks and neck. “ _Shit.”_ She paws at the handles, attempting to get them to turn but neither one budges. At that moment a knock comes at the door. “ _Come in!”_

In jogs a very, _very_ handsome young man around Jon’s age, followed by a girl with long blondish hair. “We heard you yelling – whoa, Shireen go get Davos!”

“On it!” The girl turns on her heel and runs back out of the apartment.  

Handsome Dude nearly slips in the growing pool of water on the floor, managing to stop his fall by grabbing onto the edge of the counter and reaching for the cold water switch. He turns it off with an incredibly sexy grunt and Sansa gapes, water (or was it drool?) dripping off of her chin. “How did you do –“ Her eyes dart to Handsome Dude’s arms and sees he’s packing quite a set not so cleverly hidden under a skin tight teeshirt. “Oh okay, that makes sense.”

Good Looking Stranger glances down at where she’s currently staring like a thirsty teenager and Sansa notices the tips of his ears beginning to turn red. Sansa slaps a hand over her mouth, unable to believe that that had just flown out of her face. “S-Sorry.”

Hot Stuff chuckles and shakes his head. “No problem.”

The door opens again and in marches an older man carrying a tool box, followed by the girl – Shireen was her name? “Hello Sansa, so nice to see you again.”

Sansa had met her landlord, Davos Seaworth, only once and that had been on moving in day. Jon always handled paying the rent, she usually just passed off a check to Jon for her half. Jon had mentioned to her that Davos had a foster daughter that had lived him since she was a baby but there was no recollection of this other fellow standing before her.

“Hi Mr. Seaworth,” Sansa tries to step away and she ends up sliding back into the pool of water, almost falling to the floor.  

Shireen catches her elbow to steady her and Sansa shoots the young teen a grateful glance. “Where’s your towels? We can start to soak up this mess.”

Sansa points towards the coat closet where they kept extra old towels. Lady comes bounding out of the bedroom then as Shireen tries to make for the closet and barks excitedly at the girl. Shireen giggles, looking over at Sansa. “She doesn’t bite, let her come to you.”

Lady trots over to Shireen and sniffs at her knees, pushing her head up underneath Shireen’s hand. Shireen lightly brushes her fingers through the dog’s soft fur, gently tweaking her ears. “What’s her name?”

“Lady.”

Shireen busies herself with Lady and completely forgets about the towels. Sansa steps around her traitorous dog and grabs the towels herself. Davos grunts as he fiddles under the sink, Good Looking Stranger passing him the tools he barks for. “Sansa, have you met Gendry Waters? He’s Shireen’s cousin.” McYum – no _Gendry_ waves goofily at Sansa. “He’s here checking out an apartment, he may be moving in so he can be a little closer to Boston U.”

“Boston U?” Sansa repeats. “My sister goes there on an athletic scholarship.”

“Oh really? What sport does she play?” Gendry asks.

Sansa flops down two of the towels onto the settled puddles of water, using her foot to slide them around a bit. “She got in because of soccer but she’s also pretty keen on fencing, I think she likes stabbing people a little too much.”

Gendry bursts out laughing. “Sounds like my kind of girl. I’m kidding,” he quickly adds at the look on Sansa’s face.

Unable to stop herself, Sansa pulls her phone from her jacket pocket and finds the one picture of Arya that she has saved in her library. Her sister hates having her picture taken, and in the few family photos that they still had of them when they were children, Arya would always be off in the corner, scowling at something the rest of them could not see and she’s doing the same in this photo.

Gendry grins when she passes him her phone. “Why do I feel like I am being set up?”

“What makes you think that?” Sansa asks innocently. Gendry snorts and Sansa glimpses Shireen rolling her eyes from her place on the floor beside Lady. “But for future reference her phone number is –“

-;

Her phone starts going off with several text message alerts when she gets to work the next morning.

_WTF SANSA_

_WHY DID YOU_

_I DON’T KNOW WHETHER TO BE ANGRY OR_

_EVEN MORE ANGRY_

_WHY DID YOU GIVE A STRANGER MY #?????_

_SANSA I AM WAITING_

_FOR AN EXPLANATION_

_SANSA_

Sansa smirks down at her phone and picks it up when it rings. “Because I love you and I want you to get laid.” She laughs out loud at her sister’s surprised sputtering. “Face it, you need some.”

_“Why I ought to –“_

“What? Breathe menacingly at me?” Sansa retorts and Arya growls. “What exactly happened?”

 _“This guy, this_ Gendry _texted me when I was getting ready for my first class and told me that he was your neighbor and that he was starting at Boston U today.”_

“That’s all?” Sansa asks.

Arya makes a noise of agreement. “ _Well that’s not all. He asked me for...”_

 _“_ What? Nudes? I’ll stab him for you.”

 _“No! Not nudes, jeez get your mind out of the gutter,”_ Arya sighs like the world is ending. “ _He asked me what kind of coffee I like.”_

Sansa, who is in mid sip of her own coffee, starts to cough. “ _What?_ How dare he ask you such a personal question!”

Arya laughs. “ _Shut up.”_

“What did you tell him?”

She can almost hear Arya shrug her shoulders. As they grew up, her little sister had that annoying habit of shrugging when she was trying to avoid answering personal questions. It usually worked best when she didn’t want to reveal her report card to their mother. “ _Okay fine, I told him the truth.”_

“Mocha with a shot of expresso?”

 _“Yeeesss.”_ Sansa burst out laughing. “ _It’s not funny!”_

“Oh but it is. Here you are, acting like a cute guy asking what coffee you liked is the second coming of the Ice Age and it’s just _coffee._ Arya!”

“ _Sansa!”_ Arya whined. “ _Okay fine! Wait a minute, did you say cute?”_

Sansa grinned. “Listen, I was making up Grey’s Anatomy names in my head when I first met him. McHandsome, McYum...”

-;

Rickon squirmed in Robb’s grip. “Hurry _up!”_

“Would you hold still?” Robb gently brushed back Rickon’s wild curls with his hands, a lame attempt to get them to lay flat. “Oh I give up.”

“Why’d you even try?” Bran asks. “Can we go now?”

Robb chuckled and unlocked the car doors. “Yes we can go.” Bran beamed and yanked on the door handle, only stopping when Robb grabs him by the hood as a truck races by his side of the car. “Would you please wait just a second?”

“ _Fine.”_

Once it’s safe to get out of the car, they head up the front walk to Ygritte’s apartment building. The door opens when Bran raises his hand to knock, revealing a grinning Ygritte. “Hello! Come on in!”

Rickon looks up at Robb, and he nods. The boys both beam and trot inside, Robb following closely as they walk into a kitchen that seems to take up half of the apartment and frankly, it smells delicious. A dozen cookies are resting on a cooling rack by the window and ingredients are set out on the counter. “Go ahead and take off your jackets. This oven gets really hot so you won’t be needing them.”

Bran and Rickon do as they’re told and Robb takes the jackets, setting them over the back of a chair nearby. “Wash your hands before you touch anything, boys.”

Ygritte smiles at him over the top of Rickon’s head and dammit, there’s that shiver going right down his spine again. Why does this keep happening to him? “First things first,” Ygritte reaches into the large wooden bowl filled with flour and scoops up some in her hands. “We’re gonna get a little dirty.” She rubs some on Rickon’s chubby cheeks and he giggles. When she does the same with Bran, she lifts her snowy fingers up and raises an eyebrow at Robb.

“Oh, _no –“_ Robb starts to back away and nearly trips over another chair.

Bran laughs out loud. “Get him, Ygritte!”

Ygritte wriggles her fingers menacingly. “Yeah, Stark. Are you afraid?”

Robb scowls but still continues to back away, almost ending up in the connecting living room. “I am _not –_ ahhh!” He groans in annoyance as Ygritte successfully smears flour all over his face and into his beard. “Not funny.” Her fingers are very soft, softer than he expected.

Ygritte grins widely, giving his cheek a soft pat with the palm of her hand. “Oh but it is.” She turns on her heel and walks away. “All right, onto business young Starks!”

Needless to say, Robb doesn’t leave that afternoon.

-;

Jon bursts out laughing when she tells him about Arya. “Are you kidding me? The last time your mother tried to convince Arya to date, she threatened to not come home for the Christmas holidays!”

“I have the magical power?” Sansa offers. At Jon’s unconvinced face, she gives in. “Okay I got lucky. Don’t nod at me!” Jon easily ducks the pillow she throws at his head. “You’re not supposed to agree!”

“And yet, you get mad when I disagree,” Jon snorts, dodging the next pillow she tosses as he heads for the kitchen. Lady jumps down off the couch and grabs up the two pillows in her mouth and wanders off for the bedroom to end the new treasures to her nest. “What would you like for dinner?”

Sansa lays back on the couch, her hand resting on her still barely there belly. She wonders when she will start feeling some movement. Her mother had always said the first thing she felt was a butterfly feeling, which was always right before the morning sickness usually – oh. Oh _shit --_

Jon looks up, alarmed at the noise that Sansa makes as she staggers off of the sofa and into the bathroom, slamming the door after her. He winces when he hears the horrible retching sounds and turns back towards the fridge, putting away the steak he had just pulled out and plucking up a loaf of white bread instead.

About ten minutes later Sansa stumbles from the bathroom, wiping at her face with a wet washcloth. “Whoever said morning sickness comes in the _morning_ was full of bullshit.”

“Must have been a man,” Jon suggests.

“Thank you! Right, probably someone who had never been pregnant before in their life.” Sansa groans and lays back down on the couch, flopping the whole washcloth over her face. “This is gonna be a joy ride, isn’t it?”

Jon clucks his tongue in sympathy. “It’s not gonna be easy.”

When Sansa pulls the cloth from her eyes, Jon’s standing at her right elbow holding a plate with toast and a glass of ginger ale. “I _love youuuu.”_

“You better,” Jon smiles and passes her the plate. “I’m gonna cook some chicken, will that bother you?”

“Better bring me a clip from one of the chip bags to put on my nose, just in case.” She laughs when Jon tosses her one and she catches it cleanly with one hand. (“Good catch.”) “Thanks. The amount of things Arya threw at me when we were little gave me lots of practice.”

Luckily, the smell of lemon chicken doesn’t bother her and she steals some of it off of Jon’s plate when he settles down next to her on the couch. She cues up the first season of MASH on Netflix, one of her father’s favorite shows, and ends up dropping off with her head on Jon’s shoulder as they watch Hawkeye pull the fifteenth trick on Frank Burns. Jon’s last words in her ear before she dozes off are, “I’d feel sorry for Burns if he wasn’t such a dick to everyone.”  

When she wakes, she’s still on the couch, a few blankets tucked around her with Lady’s warmth at her feet. The door to Jon’s room is slightly open and she sees a soft light coming from his bedside table and she can just about make out his still awake form, propped up in bed with a book resting against his knee.

She watches, hopefully not too creepy like, for a while. Jon’s got his glasses on and his hair is wild all over his head and she finds her fingers itching just a bit to touch his curls. He sips at a mug, his own fingers lightly turning the pages of his book.

She falls back asleep like that, feeling more warm and more safe than she had felt in ages.

-;

Robb’s more tired than usual when they get home. He and the boys had ended up spending all afternoon and part of the evening at Ygritte’s and there are more tupperwares filled with chocolate cookies on his kitchen table than he cares to think of. Some aren’t edible and some are so he will have to weed through those in the morning once he gets the boys off to school.

He helped Ygritte prepare a simple meal of grilled cheese and tomato soup, watching with amusement when she adds a few shavings of green onion to hers. “Shut up, it’s delicious.”

“Didn’t say a word,” he chuckles, holding up his hands in mock surrender. Ygritte gapes when he does the same thing to his own sandwich. “It’s quite good, I agree.”

Rickon’s asleep on the couch when it’s time to leave. Ygritte carries the tupperware out to the car as he gently lifts Rickon up into his arms and lightly rouses a dozing Bran. “Come on, love, it’s time to go home.” Bran gathers up his things without complaining and they go out to the car together. “Say thank you to Ygritte.” To his surprise, the little boy reaches up his tiny arms and when Ygritte leans down he wraps them around her neck in a tired hug.

“Thank you for a wonderful day.”

The redhead smiles at Robb, pecking Bran’s forehead. “Anytime, little lad.” Robb does the same, breathing an exhausted “ _thank you,”_ in her direction before settling Rickon into his seat and buckling him in. “You’re welcome here anytime,” Ygritte says as he gets into the driver’s seat. “All three of you.”

“More cookies?” Bran asks hopefully.

Ygritte waggles a finger. “Maybe we’ll try to make something else next time.”

Bran nods, satisfied. Robb looks at up at her with his own smile, feeling more forced than it should. “Thanks again.”

She answers him by shutting the driver’s door and she’s waving when he pulls away from the curb and looks into the rearview mirror. He tries to keep his eyes on her until they get to the end of the street, only looking away when he has to turn to head home.

Once they are home and the boys are in bed, Robb prepares a pot of coffee and pads out to the postbox to gather up whatever mail he had been ignoring for the last couple of days. Most of it is junk that he drops into the trash when he gets back inside, a few bills and a renewal notice to Bran’s dinosaur magazine. At the very bottom of the pile is a large heavy manila envelope.

_To the Beneficiaries of Eddard and Catelyn Stark._

Robb swallows hard, his fingers shaking as he tears off the top of the envelope and pulls out what is inside. The top letter is filled with legal terms that Margaery would be able to explain to him better than he could ever try to decipher himself. As he discards the top letter, he finds the new deed to the house as well as three bank statements.

On the deed, where he normally would have seen his father’s name, he sees his own, with Brienne’s signature underneath. The bank statements are three bonds that his parents had hidden for emergencies, each with only a few thousand in it.

At the bottom of the pile is another legal form, one that he understands perfectly.

_Official Decree of Custody_

His teeth sink into his bottom lip, his gaze trailing over the buzz of words on the page. Bran and Rickon are now officially his, he is their legal guardian and nothing will change that.

Shouldn’t he feel okay with this? Not – well, not _panicking,_ he realizes a moment later when the breath is not leaving his lips. He sucks in another but it just won’t leave, and holy shit he’s fucking _choking._

_Breathe, Robb. Breathe._

Easier said than done. He feels his balance slide right off of the chair and his knees hit the hard linoleum of the kitchen floor, his hands joining a moment later as he goes down on all fours, trying his best to steady himself.

 _In through your nose, out through your mouth._ He can almost hear his mother’s voice. _In through your nose, Robb!_

He closes his mouth and sucks in that breath through his nose, almost gasping when he wrenches open his lips and lets it slide out. He does it again, and again until he can breathe. A few more and then he’s fully aware of the fact he’s on the floor. Robb scrambles back up to the chair, almost a little too fast and nearly knocking the chair backwards. He cannot let the boys see him like this. They need him to be strong, they need _him_...

When properly seated, he takes in a few more breaths. _He can do this_ , he assures himself.

Even if he has to fake it.

.

.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun, dun, DUN! 
> 
> I do apologize for the longass wait. I have been very ill for the last few months and have had barely any strive to write at all. I do hope this good sized update does help and hopefully, there will not be another six month wait. Again, many apologies.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave reviews if you would like the next chapter!


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